


A Fairy Winterland, With Cocoa

by factorielle



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Libraries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-17
Updated: 2007-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-09 12:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/factorielle/pseuds/factorielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Library AU) Doumeki has a late book.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fairy Winterland, With Cocoa

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the [Librarian AU](http://community.livejournal.com/libri_holic) universe.

Everything was white.

Winter had settled early this year, and the temperatures had been running far below zero for over half a month and had only started thawing after Christmas.

The first snow had fallen that night, just in time to make the returning crowds walk slow and drive slower until the traffic made the snow turn to muck.

For now though, the campus was still deserted. The sun wasn't out and wouldn't be for a while yet, but the beginnings of dawn were already reflecting on the fields of white, casting a supernatural glow around the library.

The only person there wasn't paying much attention to the show. He was casually leaning back against the main door, a backpack laying at his feet. Occasionally he rubbed his bare hands together, but otherwise he didn't move.

Doumeki Shizuka was waiting.

It had been a long week. The previous year and the ones before, Christmas had been an occasion for quiet time and reminiscence. He was one of the few students who didn't go home during the week of down time granted by the university to teachers and students alike, and despite generalized cries of horror he rather enjoyed the solitude. The dorms were void of the usual loud music, screams and smells of pot or burned attempts at an elaborate dinner. And the many paths in the woods that separated the dorms from the main campus made for quite appreciable walks.

This time had been different. There had been stuff to do, research that he'd pushed back a little too late maybe, something he'd never done before. But he'd found it hard to concentrate, having to study in his own room; his attempt to study somewhere else had not fared any better. His walks, usually a time of peace and quiet, had always led him to the same place, leaving him with a vague feeling of dissatisfaction every time. For the last two days, something unsettling had been building up inside him, something that had stopped him from taking an interest in anything and had made his sleep agitated.

When he left his room that morning he'd been up for almost two hours already, and he was still at his destination half an hour too early. It had calmed the roiling disquiet inside, thankfully: he was here, now, and he could wait until his bone marrow froze.

When he heard the sound of feet on snow the strange feeling came back with a vengeance, but there was anticipation too, and he straightened up.

The librarian came round the corner a second later. He, unlike Doumeki, was dressed to stand the weather. His gloves and scarf seemed to be made (hand made, possibly, although Doumeki was far from being an expert) of the same thick wool, warm and soft and blue like the eyes of their wearer. It was impossible to tell if that was on purpose, although experience of his usual obliviousness made Doumeki lean towards the 'coincidence' option.

Watanuki Kimihiro was also holding a leather briefcase in one hand and a steaming cup of something that smelled of rich chocolate at ten paces, and reminded Doumeki that he'd found himself mostly unable to eat the previous night.

Their eyes met for barely a second, then Watanuki made a face and proceeded to ignore him completely as he walked past the main entrance to the much less grand service door, which in summer was halfway hidden under the vegetation that crawled up the wall on this side of the building. It was little more than a sheet of metal with a handle and two protruding loops, one on the door and one on the frame, through which a heavy padlock dangled.

Doumeki slung his backpack over a shoulder and followed him in silence. He watched with interest as Watanuki struggled to open his briefcase without a free hand, then took a few steps closer and caught the plastic cup. It was warm, almost hot enough to burn his fingers, but he held on.

For a moment it seemed that Watanuki would attempt to tug it back. Then he sighed and let go.

Which meant he couldn't ignore Doumeki anymore. "What are you doing here?" Acknowledgement didn't mean he had to be polite, but it was better than nothing.

Doumeki had been prepared for the question. "I got your letter," he said, and before Watanuki had the chance to protest that statement, "saying I'm late to hand in a book?"

"I know," the librarian snapped, visibly struggling to open his briefcase with his gloves. Doumeki took the chance to take a sip from the cup. The liquid burned his mouth, but it was delicious. There was no way it came from one of the machines that littered the campus, that dispensed little more than lukewarm coloured water in the guise of tea, coffee or cocoa. This was rich, creamy, tasting of the best chocolate and a hint of chestnut, and so good Doumeki almost forgot that it was his turn to speak.

"You remember all the late books?" he asked innocently.

Under Watanuki's hand, the briefcase's fastening finally snapped open. "Only the ones that are _exceptionally overdue_," he answered in a meaningful tone. "There will be a fee, I'm sure you've read."

"It said if I brought it back after today at nine there would be a fee. It's not nine yet."

The key ring jingled in Watanuki's hand as he took it out of the bag. "We're not open yet. You could have read that too." From mildly irritated, his voice was turning frankly annoyed. He let out a groan, and Doumeki had to take a step to the side to be able to see why.

Watanuki had tried to shove the key in the padlock, which was frozen. Ice filled the keyhole, and it was not letting up.

"You're here," Doumeki pointed out. "Isn't it your job to take it?"

Watanuki groaned anew, and shoved his bag at him. Doumeki took it docilely in the hand not busy clutching the elixir of life, the quantity of which was lowering every time its legitimate owner looked away.

"It's my _job_," the other sneered as he grabbed the lock and tried to chip away at the ice with his key, "to make you pay your fee after keeping a book for _two weeks_ longer than you were allowed to."

"One week," Doumeki argued. "You were closed all of last week. I came by." Not to bring back the book, and not always out of a conscious decision, but subtleties hardly mattered when it came to dealing with the librarian.

"If you'd been on time the problem wouldn't have arisen." The technique didn't seem to be working, and the cold of the metal had to be seeping through even the warm glove to the hand holding it.

It was a fair enough point. "I'll pay," Doumeki conceded, vaguely wondering if he should offer to take a turn on the padlock. But he wasn't about to let go of his cocoa unless he had to.

There was no answer, which in Doumeki's personal score sheet meant a mild defeat. It seemed his skill at making the librarian lose it had waned over the holiday.

"So," he inquired after a few minutes of silence. "What did you do for the holidays? Apart from sending me letters."

The lock clanged on the door when Watanuki let go of it to turn around and point a righteous finger at Doumeki. "That," he clamoured, "is none of your business. What I do when I'm not slaving after you inconsiderate jerks is no one's concern but my own, and _what are you still doing here_?"

"Waiting for you to take my book." Doumeki wondered who else qualified as an 'inconsiderate jerk', and how hard it would be to get them out of the picture.

"The library opens at nine." The answer was distracted, as Watanuki was studying the lock for any signs of weakness.

"I have a class at eight-thirty," Doumeki answered, mildly hoping that Watanuki would catch the lie; but it seemed the librarian's eery omniscience only worked for things directly related to his domain.

"Then you can come back later. Much, much later."

"I thought you wanted your book back?" He'd expected an explosion for that, but all he got was a long-suffering sigh - an uncharacteristic and unsatisfying admission of defeat.

"Fine. I'll take it. But I'm not updating your record until you've paid."

Doumeki nodded and handed him the briefcase back –-holding on to the cup which still had some heat to transfer into his hand-- to make his backpack slide to the front and open it with one hand. He reached in blindly, but had no problem finding the book as it was the only item in there.

Watanuki snatched it from his hand in a way that managed to indicate that he would have loved to be rougher about it, but respected the book too much to do so. He turned it around, checking for damage as per his custom.

That was when the awaited explosion came. It was a loud one.

"YOU!" The librarian yelled, glaring at him with an intensity never previously reached. "I DO NOT BELIEVE YOU."

"What is it?" There was something fascinating about the way the librarian's face lit up when he was truly furious, and Doumeki was still not done wondering if it was also the case when he experienced other strong emotions. "It's the book you wrote me about."

"NO, IT IS NOT. YOU HAVE BEEN HOLDING ON TO THIS BOOK FOR FIVE WEEKS. THERE IS A WAITING LIST FOR IT AS LONG AS MY ARM. AND ALL ALONG YOU'VE HAD YOUR OWN COPY?"

"What makes you say that?" Doumeki enquired, putting the leftover cocoa out of reach of the flailing limbs.

"THIS IS NOT A LIBRARY BOOK, YOU INSUFFERABLE CRETIN." He shoved the book at Doumeki's face. "THERE IS NO BARCODE ON THIS, OR A DEWEY DECIMAL NUMBER"

Ah, this one Doumeki knew.

"There is a barcode," he said, pointing at it. Taken aback at the suggestion that he might have been wrong about one of his precious books, Watanuki froze mid-yell and peered at the offending back cover.

"This," he said between clenched teeth, "is not a library barcode. This is an ISBN, which ALL BOOKS have."

Doumeki had done his research, but didn't see fit to contradict that particular flawed statement. It wouldn't do to appear to know too much, so he went for the other extreme.

"Eye esse what?"

Watanuki snorted. "International Standard Book-" then he seemed to remember where he was and who with. "Why am I explaining this to you anyway," he grumbled, shoving the offending book and the briefcase back at Doumeki to attack the padlock again. "It's not like you ever listen."

That was another wrong statement that Doumeki chose not to correct for the time being. "It would be good service," he commented as Watanuki tried to force the key in the lock again. There was something mildly obscene about this, Doumeki thought distantly.

"Yes well," shove, pull back, "I am not" shove, pull back "servicing you." He forced the key in one more time, and this time it turned, opening the lock.

This brief victory distracted Watanuki realizing what he'd just said, but Doumeki saved the innuendo for later use.

The librarian twisted the padlock away from the door and turned around, smiling smugly.

"And this is where our paths part," he said, jubilating. "I have work to do and you have a class to go to and that means I am free of your presence, so good bye."

He extended his hands impatiently, but Doumeki took his time putting the book in his backpack, then the backpack on his shoulder before handing Watanuki his briefcase. "I'll be back this afternoon," he offered.

"Who cares?" Watanuki snatched the now cold, empty cup from his hand, and froze.

"Happy new year, by the way," Doumeki wished him in the stunned silence, and turned away.

He didn't answer the string of creative imprecations thrown at his back, but there was the hint of a smile on his lips as he walked home, and for the first time that day he thought the snow was beautiful.


End file.
